


catch my name for kicks

by usoverlooked



Category: RWBY
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11172186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usoverlooked/pseuds/usoverlooked
Summary: Five times outfits Pyrrha wears that makes Yang want to kiss her.





	catch my name for kicks

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Megan for this almost entirely.

 

  1. Pajamas



Pyrrha moves into the room formerly-known-as Nora’s in mid-July. It’s the sticky hot part of summer, so of course the air conditioner is broken. Yang’s taken to spending her evenings on the fire escape, both legs kicked out over the edge, poor overworked rotor fan six inches from her face. Pyrrha somehow doesn’t seem to sweat. Yang would be more bothered by it if Pyrrha weren’t so damn sweet about it. At one point, she freezes a washrag and gives it to Yang to cool off with. Yang sort of stares at it for a moment before she figures out what she’s supposed to do with it and by the time she’s figured it out, Pyrrha’s back to working on her reports so Yang doesn’t even get a chance to thank her.

Their lives are – to put it lightly – very different. Pyrrha works for the financial department of a rather mucky-muck business downtown – she always waves over the details as if she doesn’t want to bother anyone with them, so Yang’s not sure of them herself. Yang works as a waitress at the hippie vegan joint (pun intended) two blocks from their hole-in-the-wall apartment and spends mornings as a trainer for the richy-rich in the uppercrust of the city. The latter job requires her to take two different bus routes to get to the pristine gym, but it also gives her a place to box after her shifts, so she can’t complain.

It works, mostly. They both go to bed early enough during the weekdays and get up before the sun. There’s something nice about it, Yang’s surprised to find – waking up and having a cup of coffee with Pyrrha before she runs to catch her bus. She always starts the coffee while Pyrrha’s in the shower and there’s something startlingly domestic about it.

Yang’s had girlfriends, but never anyone with the same schedule as her like this, and as far as roommates, there was Ruby when they were little but since then it’s just been Nora. Nora went off and married Ren, which disrupted all of that, but prior she had slept until noon most days. Perks of working as a DJ.

Pyrrha’s even quieter in the mornings, not grumpy but just still sleepy. It’s not – Yang doesn’t feel any way about it, really, until the morning Pyrrha comes out in shorts.

She showered the night before after spilling something on herself, so she comes to breakfast in her pajamas. Pyrrha’s only been there about a month and Yang realizes as she puts a piece of bread in the toaster, this is the first time she’s seen her roommate in pajamas. It’s simple enough, a loose t-shirt from some 5k she must’ve run, and a pair of tiny shorts. Like, _really_  tiny shorts.

Yang freezes with her cup of coffee halfway to her face. She’s always known, more in theory than anything else, that Pyrrha had an ass. Like, back in college, years ago, she had played volleyball and Yang had gone to a couple of games. It was just something she had forgotten until now. There’s a sliver of skin exposed by the shorts that Yang stares at for a moment too long until Pyrrha yawns and turns to face their tiny kitchen table. Yang’s face heats. She almost apologizes for being a creep when Pyrrha reaches back and grabs something from a freezer.

“I can’t believe you think it’s that hot already,” Pyrrha says, mildly. She holds out an ice pack. Yang blinks at it, then takes it.

“It surprised me too,” she manages to say. Pyrrha smiles and takes her toast as it pops up. Yang squeezes the ice pack.

Well, she thinks when Pyrrha smiles softly at her. She realizes very suddenly that she'd like to kiss her roommate. Shit.

 

  1. Bikini



For the most part, Yang manages to keep things under control for the rest of the summer. Pyrrha is the best roommate she’s ever had. She’s incredibly clean, very quiet, and just amazing. If Yang didn’t have a crush on her, it would be the ideal living situation.

As it is though? Yang spends one evening playing _Risk_  on her phone until it dies, at which point she just sits there for about another twenty minutes, because Pyrrha fell asleep with her legs tossed across Yang’s lap. Pyrrha isn’t easily affectionate the way Yang is. It takes Yang a while to realize this, but when she does, she can’t stop noticing the little affections. Pyrrha touching her arm as she passes by her in the hallway, Pyrrha taking her hand as they traipse through the busy bar at the end of the block as they leave to get tacos. Most of Yang’s closer friends are all bodies – arms looped over each other’s shoulders, kissed cheeks, falling asleep in a lump. So she thinks it should probably mean less that she smiles like a dope for about an hour the first time Pyrrha falls asleep on the couch next to her.

That’s the other thing about Pyrrha – she seems to be under the impression that nearly everything she does is a burden to Yang. Bought a different brand of dish soap? Two apologies. Used the last of the milk? An apology and a promise to get more by the next day – a promise that she _kept_. It drives Yang up the wall and in August, she finally breaks down and makes an apology jar. Every time Pyrrha apologizes unnecessarily, both of them have to put a quarter in the jar. It’s enough for fifty cent taco night at the place down the street and having them _both_  put in money was the only way to not make Pyrrha just end up footing the bill.

So, Yang has a crush. Pyrrha’s sweet and she feels like she’s finally starting to figure her out which is - _interesting_  for a lot of reasons, not least of which that she always thought she sort of knew Pyrrha. It turns out she couldn’t be more wrong. Pyrrha’s mother may come across sweet but after living with Pyrrha for two months, Yang starts to get why Nora calls the woman Kathulu (a take on Cthulhu and Kathy, even though poor Katherine Nikos goes by her full name). She learns that Pyrrha prefers strawberry ice cream to anything else, but she’s also allergic to pistachio and deeply sad about it because she thinks the green ice cream looks fun. The day Yang brings home a pint of green tea ice cream, Pyrrha smiles so bright that Yang replays it over in her head when she tries to sleep that night. But it’s just a crush. She can handle it.

Then, her darling sister invites them both to a pool party.

Because Ruby is dating the richest woman in the world – or, well, richest woman in their friend group – she lives in a complex with a very nice pool. Yang agrees to go, Pyrrha agrees to go, it is heard through the grapevine that most of their other friends agree to go. It’s the end of August, but with global warming and all, the weather is still plenty hot.

Pyrrha wears a bikini.

Which – duh, of course she would – but Yang kicks herself for not thinking of it anyway. She’s perched on the edge of the pool next to Nora, who keeps threatening to push her in. It’s half-hearted at best because Nora’s hung over. Yang’s fairly certain that’s the only reason she’s not already in the pool.

So Pyrrha peels off her cover-up to reveal a bikini with little polka dots all over it and Yang suddenly finds the bottom of the pool very interesting. Next to her, Nora snorts.

“Finally getting over Belladonna then?” Nora refers to Blake only by last name now, even though there’s no real bad blood between Yang and her. It’s been over a year since they broke up. Blake got a job offer across the country that she would have had to be crazy to turn down. Yang has a life here. It was a hard decision but the right one.

There’s a lot of ways Yang could respond, but she goes with the most reasonable. She loops an arm around Nora’s shoulders. Then, she leans and lands them both in the pool.

  1. Hat



Fall comes in slowly and Yang figures there’s probably a proverb about it somewhere. She doesn’t know what it is, but what she does know is that fall always makes her think of Raven. Raven left for the last time – when Yang was seventeen – in early October. Yang tries to forget the exact day, but her body remembers somehow, deep in her bones, and she gets irksome around the season. She can feel it happening, like something clawing up inside her.

Pyrrha notices too. Pyrrha’s good about not prying, never touching too close to a bruise. Yang can’t understand that. When Kathulu visits in September, Yang spends the rest of the night after she’s gone making sure Pyrrha knows exactly how wrong her mother is about a lot of things. She rants about it for long enough that finally Pyrrha smiles when Yang swears to go find one of those singing fish wall decorations and hide it in Katherine Nikos’s home office.

Pyrrha’s approach is less direct.

Back in college, when they really only knew each other through Nora, the one thing they had bonded over was sports. The rest of their friends really didn’t give half a damn about sports – any of them, honestly, pick a sport, their little group of heretics cared not a lick. The only one who could even be convinced to go to games was Nora, and even then, it was only to hockey because she wanted to see the fights. Pyrrha and Yang, on the other hand, both grew up with a love of most sports. The one time Yang could remember them hanging out, just the two of them, was when they went to a basketball game their senior year. It had been fun. That was nearly six years ago. It’s strange for Yang to realize that – how much time has passed and how long she could’ve been Pyrrha’s friend and missed out on it.

So it comes to October and Yang is, and she’d be first to admit it, sulking. She takes to folding herself up on the couch and watching old reruns of _One Tree Hill_ , even though she honestly hates the show. One evening, Pyrrha comes in and holds out an envelope.

Inside, there are two tickets to the baseball game. It’s late enough in the season that Yang does the mental math and tries not to feel guilty. Still, Pyrrha’s excited and she doesn’t even root for Yang’s favorite team, but she goes anyways.

The seats are far away which makes Yang feel a little better about the whole affair. She gets the first couple rounds of beers, which likely adds up to about the same as the tickets, given ballpark prices and all. It doesn’t take long before they’re both tipsy. Pyrrha keeps talking about how she wishes she had a ball cap because everyone has a ball cap and she feels like a nerd. Yang doesn’t even think about it, just takes her own faded, old ball cap off and drops it onto Pyrrha’s head. She grins, bright and toothy, and Yang’s heart lurches with it.

“You don’t have to,” Pyrrha coos, but she’s already adjust it on her head, getting comfortable with it. Yang shakes her head at the idea of getting it back and Pyrrha leans back in her seat.

It isn’t until they get back home that Pyrrha says anything about it.

“The cap was somebody else’s first, right?” She asks. They’re walking up the stairs to their apartment because the elevator’s broken again. Yang’s leading. She tries not to react to the question. She might fail because Pyrrha’s hand settles between her shoulderblades.

“It was my mother’s,” she admits. She looks over her shoulder. The hat’s tipped too low, Pyrrha has to more or less peer upwards to see out from under the brim. Yang wants, more than she has wanted anything in a while, to kiss her. Instead, she flicks a finger at the brim of the hat. “Looks better on you though.”

“Yang,” Pyrrha says. There’s a levelness to it, an offer of that listening that Pyrrha does where Yang knows she’s getting full attention. Yang shakes her head.

“It’s been over ten years since I’ve seen her,” she says, and she means it as an explanation for why she pretends Raven doesn’t matter, but it fails at that. The hand on her back rubs a small circle and Yang smiles. “I don’t really miss her, I’m just pissed she left.”

“Look at the upside, maybe she’s dead.”

For a moment, Yang just stills. Then, she bursts into laughter – half at the statement, half at the shock of it coming from _Pyrrha_  of all people.

“I didn’t mean – oh, I just mean maybe that’s why she’s never come back, I don’t want anyone to be dead really,” Pyrrha says in an attempt to backpedal. Yang shakes her head and Pyrrha sighs. “I mean, it wouldn’t be the _worst_  thing if she were dead though.”

“Pyrrha,” Yang says, still shocked. She catches Pyrrha’s eye and thinks maybe she’s doing it to get Yang to smile. Or maybe she means it. Either way, Yang grins. “Thanks.”

Pyrrha smiles at her softly there, in the dingy staircase of their apartment. Six months ago, Yang would never have thought that she would end up here. But in the moment, she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  1. Costume



Nora has – historically – amazing Halloween parties. It’s no surprise when, come October 31, she greets Yang at the door in full Morticia Addams garb. She looks Yang up and down then nods and allows her to enter. There was an incident, two years ago, where one of Blake’s friends got in wearing street clothes. Nora made Sun carry the guy out. It was hilarious but also a cautionary tale that Yang was sure to heed.

Yang’s dressed as Supergirl. It’s not her best costume – year after college, Xena Warrior Princess takes the crown for that – but she’s happy with it. After a moment – and a forced hug that ends in Pyrrha squeaking when Nora slaps her ass - Pyrrha joins her in Ren and Nora’s living room. Pyrrha’s dressed as _Sailor Moon_. Yang has a sneaking suspicion Ren helped her with the costume because it is very well made, but she’s not going to say anything.

The party’s only just begun when they get there. Nora is vigilant at the door but Yang catches sight of Ren talking to Jaune Arc in the kitchen. She rolls her eyes at the very sight before she can stop herself.

There’s nothing _technically_  wrong with Jaune. He’s nice enough or whatever. But the thing is – Pyrrha had the hugest crush on him in college. Like, by the time they graduated everyone knew about it. It wasn’t even embarrassing for her, but for him, because she’s so out of his league it is embarrassing to think he didn’t notice or hope for her. Yet, he didn’t. As far as Yang knows, he doesn’t know to this day. It’s just one of those things.

Pyrrha squeezes Yang’s arm before heading over to join the two, so Yang rejoins Nora at the door. Nora looks at her, then turns to look at her husband. She makes a rather obscene gesture involving the V of her first two fingers and her tongue, which Ren nods at, before turning back to Yang.

“Why’s Jaune here?” She says. It’s more of a whine honestly but because Nora’s a good friend, she figures she can get away with it.

“Don’t whine,” Nora, ever the traitor, says. “Ren loves him. I do too, if I’m drunk enough to admit it.”

“Fine,” Yang says. She makes a face and Nora looks outright delighted.

“Holy shit. I thought it was just that she’s like hot or whatever, but you _like_ her,” Nora whispers. She bounces where she stands and Yang smacks her arm. Nora grins. “I’m right.”

“It’s not – it doesn’t matter,” Yang hisses. She keeps her eyes on Pyrrha in the kitchen, watches as Jaune bumps his shoulder against hers. It’s probably a friendly motion, but then again, maybe not.

“They went out a couple times,” Nora says. Yang blinks back to attention and finds Nora watching the two of them as well. “It was fine, except it never went anywhere.”

“When was this?” Yang asks, because she’s a glutton for punishment apparently.

“Right after college,” Nora says. She tips her head back against the door. “She’s dated a few people since then, but nobody’s stuck.”

Yang nods. She looks over again and Pyrrha waves at her. She waves back. It’s dorky and she shouldn’t be so charmed by it, yet she is. She wants, in a way she hasn’t since she first started up with Blake. And that was tempered by the fact that she knew Blake wanted to leave, wanted to move and keep on going. She respected that, but never understood it. She loves having the lay of the land here.

Later, the party gets going and Yang mingles. She finds herself near Pyrrha more often than not, more by happenstance than any planning on Yang’s part. The two of them pull back from talking to some friend of Nora’s, who is only in town for a few weeks.

“I could never live like that,” Pyrrha says. Yang pulls two beers from the fridge, hands one over to Pyrrha.

“Yeah?” Yang asks. She pops the tab on her beer, takes a long gulp. Pyrrha watches her for a moment, quiet, then seems to come back to herself.

“I’m barely starting to feel at home in this city, I can’t imagine being on the road all the time. I like knowing the neighborhood. Y’know the liquor store guy has finally stopped asking if I’m Nora’s sister every time I go in. I like that,” Pyrrha says. She says it all in a rush and Yang realizes in that moment she wants this for as long as she can have it. She’ll suffer, carrying this in her heart, but if losing Pyrrha, losing seeing Pyrrha like this, is the alternative, she won’t do it.

“Me too,” Yang says, after what might be too long. Pyrrha smiles, takes a sip of her beer. Yang maneuvers back into the rest of the party, tries not to think about how much time she spends looking at her roommate for a little too long.

  1. Glasses



By November, Yang knows a little more about Pyrrha’s job. It’s all a little over her head, mostly because once Pyrrha starts explaining it, she just skips over the parts she thinks seem boring and includes the more complicated stuff. But Yang knows that Pyrrha loves it, making all the numbers work and filling out the right reports to get money sent the right place. It’s all Greek to Yang – a joke she likes to make around Pyrrha, since Pyrrha actually knows a little Greek thanks to her mother wanting her to be in touch with her “heritage”, despite the heritage in question coming from a sperm donor.

The job also stresses Pyrrha out quite a bit. It was at its peak during fiscal year end stuff, but there’s some new project in November that has her up to all hours. Their usual schedule is thrown off by it, with Pyrrha coming home from work later and later. Yang usually isn’t the type to worry – adults can make their own decisions, there’s nothing wrong with that. But when Pyrrha does come home, if Yang’s awake to see her, she notices that she just seems worn thin.

On a Friday, she comes home at nearly nine. Yang’s curled up on the couch, an old movie playing. Pyrrha just more or less flops into the kitchen chair. Yang shakes her head. There’s no way that’s happening.

“Go get in pajamas,” she declares. She stands, fully ready to strong arm Pyrrha into taking care of herself. It’s a fight she could probably win. Maybe.

“I need to eat,” Pyrrha says. She looks in the direction of the kitchen, like maybe she’s going to will food to her through sheer force of will. Yang brushes past her and pulls out the pad thai from the fridge.

“Go, I can reheat this, you put on pajamas and get on the couch,” Yang says. Pyrrha heads back to her room.

By the time the pad thai is heated, Pyrrha’s back out on the couch. She has on pajama pants and another running shirt. She runs most nights after work, though not lately with how busy she’s been. She also has on her glasses. Yang loves and hates the glasses. Loves them because Pyrrha looks really damn good in them. Hates them for the exact same reason.

Yang passes the pad thai to Pyrrha, then searches on Netflix until she finds a Jackie Chan movie. They’re Pyrrha’s secret vice. She lets Pyrrha eat in silence for a while as Jackie kicks the shit out of people in the background.

“You want to vent about it?” Yang asks eventually. Pyrrha shakes her head, sets the now empty bowl on the low coffee table. Yang nudges her with her foot. “Want me to beat your boss up? I could probably do it.”

“That’s okay,” Pyrrha says. She smiles as she says it, which was Yang’s overall goal. She looks over at Yang with a funny expression. Yang cocks her head, short hand of asking a question. Pyrrha looks away. “Sometimes, it – I – “

She trails off.

“I just am really glad you’re my roommate,” she says after a beat. Yang nods at that.

By the end of the movie, Pyrrha’s sprawled across the couch, head resting on Yang’s chest. She’s asleep. Yang considers not waking her, letting the two of them sleep out on the couch like this. But it feels too much and too close to something, so in the end she selfishly wakes Pyrrha up. She sleeps in her own beds and Yang tries not to feel so lonely in it.

  1. Pajamas (Redux)



Yang wakes up late the next morning. She doesn’t sleep in often – one of the few habits she doesn’t indulge in – but it was late the night before by the time she fell asleep. When she walks out into the living room, Pyrrha is still in her pajamas on the couch. She stands up upon seeing Yang, which is strange.

Pyrrha looks her over, not a quick glance, but something more. Yang tries not to shift under the gaze, feeling very aware of her lack of bra under her tank top and the fact that her hair must look monstrous.

There’s a tense moment where they both just stand and stare at each other. Yang’s suddenly very aware of the cowlick in her hair. She reaches up to smooth it down and Pyrrha folds her hands in front of herself.

“I like you,” Pyrrha says. Yang just stares, honestly not really comprehending. Pyrrha doesn’t expand and then shakes her head. “It’s _perfectly_ fine if you don’t feel the same, but it felt – I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh, you mean you _like_ me,” Yang says. She says it because she’s an idiot. Pyrrha shakes her head again, but Yang can read her well. It’s not a disagreement with Yang’s question; it’s at her own admission. She’s trying to take it back.

Yang crosses the room in two quick strides. Pyrrha seems startled by it and it pains Yang, that she would ever question it.

“Thank fuck,” Yang says.

Pyrrha smiles. Yang kisses it off of her.

 


End file.
